Family

Life on the Olympic Peninsula (now that we've been here a while).  Busy.  That sums it up.  We are no different than most families at our stage.  Just when we finish one sport or activity another one begins.  Bay does not have activities outside of supporting her brother's variety and so we got her a dog.  Oh.  He has allergies (cause we're not fucking busy enough).  He is allergic to flour and corn.  Essentially he needs a gluten free diet.  His snack of choice is a nice carrot or a rib of lettuce.  Siri now likes vegetarian snacks too.  Cause SHE can't STAND that he gets a snack that she isn't getting.  (His name is Charlie and he LOVES  ME!)

Bay is so excited for Christmas.  She has been for about three months.  Gene was like that.  In a way he still is.  He LOVES Christmas!!  He has been known to shout "SANTA!!" Elf-style at random moments.  For the last three years we have scaled back in what we used to do (read "what we used to buy").  Now, we still buy them a crapload of stuff, but it's a little more practical. 

CHICKEN EMERGENCY!

This is what Bay frantically yelled at me a few nights ago from her bedroom.  She had been playing quietly in there with her newest baby (although fully feathered and outdoor-ready) chicken.  I ran in (never downplay a chicken emergency, not with their propensity for continuous poop).  Bay met me, wild-eyed, chicken-in-arms yelling: "It's BLEEDING!  It's TOE is BLEEDING!"  Sure enough, it's toe was bleeding.  (Toe?  I dunno....  talon??  Whatev.)  Mikey (in true big brother fashion) suggested an Angry Birds Band-Aid (which Bay got for her birthday from Neil).  Bay was NOT amused.  The chicken recovered.  Bay held his band-aided toe in a kitchen towel and applied gentle pressure and soothing noises of comfort.  A little while later Gus emerged from her room, triumphant, brandishing a nail clippers and nail file.  They were found next to the chickens bed.  Bay was horrified and indignant and OBVIOUSLY guilt-ridden.  The boys thought it was hilarious.  Bay went to bed and sobbed herself to sleep.  (It was very sad.)  The chicken slept with her sister chickens in the coop and has made a complete recovery.  Bay has not attempted any more chicken pedicures.

Littlest heathen

Bay is going to church tomorrow with friends.  I attempted the crash course (God 101, 58 words or less)  at bedtime.  It wasn't simple.... to begin with Bay said she already knew who Jesus was...." he was a good guy whose brothers sold him to some people...."  I asked if she was talking about JOSEPH and His Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat?  Turns out, she was.  (She highly recommends the Disney movie.)  I don't feel too bad about this, after all it's the right book just the wrong character.  She was all over the dressing up for church idea.  That got her thinking.  She says she will wear a dress.  (I've heard this too many times before and had my hopes dashed so this does not get me as excited as it once might have.)  We spent much longer picking out the dress than we did discussing God.  (In fairness this probably applies to most people before going to church.)  As I closed the topic for the evening I reminded her that God had a son and his name is Jesus.  And SHE said "Jesus Christ is actually someone's NAME????"

If you are six and really, really lucky!

Here is a recipe for a perfect day for Bay and Eva: 
The Mall: First stop the escalator because what six year old doesn't want to ride up and down for no reason.  Next stop the Indoor Play Area where they get to climb, jump, run, giggle, jump, run and sit in an immobile cartoon-like airplane.  Next stop: Claire's (it's an accessory store that features all kinds of kid and teenage jewelry... it's a crazy, chaotic mess of pink/glitter/Hello Kitty in every possible accessory!)  There you get to pick out three pairs of clip-on earings.  Then on to the Frozen Yogurt place that has 74 different kinds of sprinkle-able/fruit/cookie/sauce topping.  Finally you HAVE to ride the escalator one last time.  The end!

(Thanks Aunt Lisa!)

No Angry Pencil Here

Bay getting her "homework" done.

Wish You Were Here

On many occasions (particularly this summer) I fantasized about being able to shop by myself.  I finally made it to Costco (a personal goal).  I'm certain I could count on ONE hand the number of times I have been to Costco on my OWN.  I was thoroughly enjoying myself, checking my list, taking my time, browsing the book section, when I realized.  That.  I.  Missed.  Her.

School

It's so redundant to say that I can't believe Bay has started school, but it's true.  She looks so tiny getting on the bus.  She was keyed up and raring to go yesterday, but once it was time to go wait for the bus she decided that she needed to hold Neil's hand.  She held it from the time we stepped outside until the bus came (quite unlike her).  She wore absolutely nothing new.  She wore her favorite t-shirt and her favorite cardigan.  Everything was clean and new-ish, but this is a girl whose clothes have to "feel right" or the day is going to nosedive.  When the bus dropped her home I went out to meet it  (I think that kindergartners have to be met, the drivers won't let them off unless a parent is waiting) there was a delay.  I could see Gus inside moving around and I assumed that he was gathering his stuff, which is not okay - he knows that he needs to be ready to hustle as far as the bus is concerned.  The lights are flashing, cars are backing up on our road (no doubt wondering the the HELL is the hold up) when finally Gus and Bay descend the steps.  She was asleep, he called to me....  I had to wake her up!  It's maybe a 20 minute ride.  "Yup", she confirmed: "I did.  I fell asleep on the bus!"

Well Children.... well.... well.... well....

The doctor pronounced Bay "perfect".  She had giggled throughout the exam... giggled and answered his questions with her gorgeous five year lisp.  She giggled when he asked her if she was going to be going to kindergarten.  Then he lifted her down off the table and said "She's perfect."  Then he added (addressing Bay) "you make me laugh".  She wasn't giggling anymore after the nurse came in and administered four shots into her thighs.  She looked teary and shocked but didn't cry. The doctor had hightailed it by this time assuring his place as "good guy".  (Nurses get a bad rap from the under tens population.)   (I was ready for screaming and a hasty exit.)  We then headed downtown where Bay picked out two tiny plastic ponies and two plastic BARKING dogs.  I am quite certain that the dogs are of the type that is right now leaching chemicals into her body.  I am also quite certain that the battery inside those barking dogs is of the type that never, ever dies.

Bay

Bay wrote her name!  It was all capitals but SO cute.  She does not love to write her letters but DOES like to recognize letters and words.  We only started a few weeks ago and she has a little page of words she can "read".  I'd rather not push the writing till she's ready.  I think we're just going to go back to coloring and cutting and pasting for a while.

The Family That Reads Together (is mostly doing it under duress)

As an experiment, we are reading My Friend Flicka as a family.  YES, that includes Gene.  I'm reading it aloud, a chapter or two a night, no ipods allowed, no texting.  Gene has not balked too much.  It's a great story (Gus's favorite).  I would like to find something that would appeal more to Gene but Gus has wanted me to reread Flicka for six months now. 

We have a great library here.  It's one of Bay's favorite places to go (mainly because there is a great little wooden kitchen which she pops into and brings me tea), but she also likes it because the boys (the little bastards) showed her the movie section.  We had a long talk in the car about the whole "point" of the library.... the REASON for the library... but the damage was done.  Our rule is that after she plays in the house, we find books and only then can she pick out ONE movie. 

swings and roundabouts

I can't believe how much I loved weeding this weekend. Soooooooooooo freakin' zen.... even WITH the kids helping occasionally. Trent got halfway in taking down the chimney but then discovered some burnt out beams in the roof where it looks like there was considerable fire damage that was never repaired.... (niiiiiiiiiiice....) THEN Bay (Darling Angel, Sweet-Little-Peanut) flushed a carrot down the toilet. It is now wedged someplace in the pipes. The toilet flushes but not properly.... there's a definitely a problem in there. Trent will probably have to take the toilet off... I will have to be busy that day... busy WITH ear plugs IN my ears........

strange and sinister

I think that Bay is a citog.... you need a fada in there to make it right (oh... oh... ironic use of the word "right"... see more on this later....) (pronounced "kitt-ogue" for those of you who didn't grow up with a fabulous Irish education... Jesus I'm feeling very ironic today....) Bay seems to favor her left hand. I was willing to call her ambidextrous up till now and she still is, a little... but she is definitely using the left more than the right. The following is snipped from wikipedia...

In many European languages, including English, the word for the direction "right" also means "correct" or "proper". Throughout history, being left-handed was considered as negative. The Latin word sinistra meant "left" as well as "unlucky" and this double meaning survives in European derivatives of Latin, including the English word "sinister.' There are many negative connotations associated with the phrase "left-handed": clumsy, awkward, unlucky, insincere, sinister, malicious, and so on. In French, gauche means both "left" and "awkward" or "clumsy", while droit(e) (cognate to English direct) means both "right" and "straight", as well as "law" and the legal sense of "right". The name "Dexter" derives from the Latin for "right", as does the word "dexterity" meaning manual skill. As these are all very old words, they would tend to support theories indicating that the predominance of right-handedness is an extremely old phenomenon.Black magic is sometimes referred to as the "left-hand path."

All I'd like to say is... great. Just bloody great. Incidentally, left handed people apparently make great boxers... all due to the lefties element of surprise... great swordsmen for the same reason. Again... great.... great....

Bay is four!

I cannot believe that Bay is four. Neither can she apparently, because she started off her day insisting that she was NOT four... she was "free". She warmed up to the idea after the boys reminded her of her presents. The fabulous Burns family came over to make up our "party". Some day I won't be so lame and will plan an actual party...... maybe next year when she turns five. Four just seems like a time to celebrate without going over the top. If she were in preschool it might be different because she would probably have attended other little girls parties and therefore have some idea of what she should expect! We are happy for low-key. Birthdays and parties and expectations met (and not) and sophisticated social networks and elaborate wish lists won't be long coming. For now, Bay was happy to help make her cake (chocolate) and was most excited that Jimmy was coming. Jimmy is the Burns family's cute little terrier that Bay pretends is her own. Kimberly attached balloons to Jimmy and as they were leaving Bay tried to give Kimberly the balloons back saying "here are your balloons"... Four is still innocent.

Dog Needs Bed... Girl Needs Bed...

More beds?? Why do my children (and dog) gravitate towards the couch? Both of these creatures HAVE a bed. Now that we got Gus his "real" bed, he sleeps in his room.

Vocabulary Day

Bay was annoyed that Ginny did not want to "go for a walk" with her. (Bay is allowed walk the dogs INDOORS). So, she announced "Ginny, you fat-ass". I do NOT say this. I do not think that it sounds as bad as some bad words and I think that it probably appeals to Bay because of the almost rhyming quality of the "a" sound. BUT, the boys made enough of a fuss about it that she said it at least five more times.... while they acted all prudish and horrified. I assume she will pull it out again on Tuesday during "school". Great.

Maxwell, the Bay

Bay regularly pretends to be a dog. A dog called "Maxwell". She starts by going down on all fours and saying "Mom, call me Maxwell" and the game begins. She can be a dog for a long time and she WILL not talk... only bark, or whine although she will shake or nod her head. She got into our bed last night as a dog and Trent said "no dogs in bed, come in if you are Bay". (It is cute but it does get a little tiresome... because she wants you to engage with her as you would a DOG... so it is very involved.) She got into bed and Trent said "Goodnight Bay". She didn't say anything... but took her fingers out of her mouth like she was contemplating a response. Trent said it again... "Goodnight Bay". After a few seconds Bay said "woof".